


The (Not So) Gentlemanly Thing to Do

by ryeloza



Category: Single Parents (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Post-Episode: Good Holidays to You, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21805120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryeloza/pseuds/ryeloza
Summary: Angie and Will settle in for a long, uncomfortable night in the cabin. A post-episode addition for "Good Holidays to You."
Relationships: Will Cooper/Angie D'Amato
Comments: 16
Kudos: 83





	The (Not So) Gentlemanly Thing to Do

It all starts because Will isn't paying attention.

They eventually usher all the kids in from the snow and set them up with a movie and some cocoa while the adults congregate around the kitchen table. After all the excitement, it isn't long before Emma and Amy pass out on the couch, and the other kids lose interest and head into one of the bedrooms. When Poppy goes to check on them, she reports that all three are asleep, and at this point, would Will and Angie mind if she and Douglas and Miggy crash here for the night too?

Will doesn't hesitate—doesn't stop to think—before he says sure, the more the merrier.

He still isn't thinking two hours later when Poppy and Douglas say goodnight, but he and Angie decide to stay up to have one more glass of wine. In fact, he doesn't start thinking up until the moment Angie announces she's going to bed.

And then, finally, the truth of the situation dawns on him.

He rented a three-bedroom cabin.

"Uh oh," he says, getting up and walking past Angie toward the room where the kids are sleeping.

"Uh oh? What uh oh?" He can hear her following him, but he doesn't stop to explain. Instead, he quietly opens the door to the bedroom and peeks in at the kids. Just as he—finally—suspected, the three of them are all tucked into the queen size bed.

Angie comes up behind him and ducks her head under his arm where it's propped against the door frame so she can see too. When she curses quietly under her breath, Will guesses that she's finally caught up to where he is. Slowly, they back out and shut the door, and Will leans back against it.

"So the kids are in there."

"Yep."

"And the twins are on the couch."

"Yep."

"And Douglas and Poppy…"

"Took the other room with the queen size bed."

"Which leaves us with…"

Angie's eyes widen and she takes off toward the last bedroom with Will right behind her. When she opens the door, she audibly groans.

The only room left is the one they intended for Graham and Sophie—the one with the built-in bunk beds. Miggy's already claimed the top one and is fast asleep; he's lying on his stomach, one arm hanging off the side of the bed with his phone still in hand.

The only bed left in the whole cabin is the bottom bunk.

"What the hell, man," says Angie, not even trying to keep her voice down. Will shushes her, probably also too loudly, and gestures to the playpen where baby Jack is sound asleep too. Angie huffs, but steps back and closes the door so they can fight this out in private.

"You just had to get a cabin with only four beds."

"How was I supposed to know you'd get us arrested and we'd end up sharing the space with seven extra people?"

"Obviously that was going to happen!"

"Yeah— _obviously_."

Angie groans. "Well now what?"

"I guess one of us can take the bed and the other can…" Will looks around the cabin, but there isn't much left in the way of furniture other than some uncomfortable looking chairs. "…sleep on the floor?"

"Great. Thanks for volunteering," says Angie, patting him on the shoulder.

"What—no! I'm not sleeping on the floor!"

"It's the gentlemanly thing to do."

"So you be the gentleman!"

"No way!"

They glare at each other for a minute before Will finally relents, more willing than Angie to back down from a fight neither of them are going to win. "I mean, I guess we could—you know…share it?"

As far as compromises go, it's less than ideal. Angie clearly agrees, because she just raises an eyebrow, and then slowly reopens the door to reveal the twin-size bunk bed. "You want to share _that_?"

"If it means that I get to go to bed and not sleep on the floor, yeah."

Angie stares at him for a beat longer, as if trying to suss out whether or not he's serious. This time he doesn't back down from her frustrated glare. The thought of a bed—any kind of bed—outweighs any other concerns he might have about this half-baked proposal.

"Argh—fine."

"Fine."

"Fine. I'm just going to put on my pajamas."

"Right."

Angie stomps away and grabs her bag from where she left it on the living room floor and then sneaks off to the bathroom. While she's gone, Will takes the time to change into his pajamas as well, trying to focus on his annoyance so he can avoid acknowledging what a horrendously bad idea this is.

A minute later, the door opens and Angie pads in. Will turns to look at her and smiles.

"Are we wearing the same pajamas?"

"What? No."

Except they definitely are. Or very nearly are. They're both in blue plaid pajama pants and a gray t-shirt.

"This would make a very cute Christmas card."

Angie rolls her eyes. "Can we just go to bed?"

She brushes past him and crawls into the bottom bunk, scooching over as far as she can to the wall to leave room for Will. Reluctantly, he gets in after her, and the next few minutes is a lot of awkward bumping and thrashing as they try to fit two adults into a bed meant for one person.

They finally settle into a position that's probably not comfortable for neither of them—both on their backs, Angie's left shoulder pressing into the wall, Will's entire right leg hanging out of the bed, their torsos pressed right up against one another.

Will is uncomfortably aware of how aware he is of every place Angie's body is pressed against his.

This is definitely a bad idea.

"Will?"

"Hmm?"

He can hear the rustle of the pillow as Angie turns her head toward him, but he keeps his eyes firmly fixed on the slats of the bunk above them. "Thank you again—for today. Because of you, Graham's getting everything he wants for Christmas this year."

At that, Will can't stop himself from turning to look back at Angie. Even in the dark room, he can see that she looks more vulnerable than usual. "I mean, I'll definitely take credit for the snow," he says, semi-jokingly (really, though, he _is_ the one who found it), "but the rest was all you, Angie. You're a great mom."

Angie gives him a small smile. "I just hope it goes okay. I don't want Graham to get hurt."

"I know. Me too."

Without really thinking about it, he grabs Angie's fingers where they're brushing against his and gives them a small squeeze. It's entirely the wrong move in this situation, as it makes him suddenly, overtly aware of how close their faces are. Of how easy it would be to just lean in and—

Will lets go of Angie's hand and clears his throat. "Just promise me that when Derek inevitably pisses you off, you don't kill him, because somehow I'll end up being an accessory to your crime and we'll both end up in jail."

"Will, if I ever kill Derek, no one will even find the body."

"God, I forget that you're basically a scary Italian-mob boss sometimes."

Angie half-laughs, half-snorts, and finally rolls her head back so she's looking up at the other bed again. Will is torn between relief and regret—and then both are immediately overtaken by the guilt he feels for feeling either.

It's hard, sometimes—this thing with Angie. It's complex and messy in a way that's frustrating for someone like him, who prefers everything to be neat and orderly. She's become his best friend, but she also frustrates the hell out of him sometimes. There are moments when he's overwhelmingly attracted to her, but other times when he's just happy that they can just hang out without sex complicating everything. She is able to make Sophie laugh and be silly in a way few other people can, but sometimes he can't stand how irresponsible she is.

He thinks he's in love with her, but he is also pretty sure that admitting it would be the worst thing for both of them.

So he's not going to.

"Okay," he says, partly to lighten the mood and partly because he really is uncomfortable, "I'm shifting. Last time. I promise." He rolls onto his side so his back is to Angie; shockingly it somehow does seem to give both of them a little more room.

"Are you settled now?"

"Yes." He shuts his eyes, trying to convince his brain to shut up and go to sleep. "Goodnight, Angie."

"'Night, Will."

* * *

Despite how late he went to sleep, Will can't help but wake up around dawn, just as he always does. Even with his eyes closed, he can tell the sun is just starting to creep up in the sky, and he nestles his face into his pillow in an attempt to block it out. Unfortunately, even that slight movement makes him overtly aware of how tight and sore his body feels, as if he's been sleeping in one position for an unusually long time.

He's vaguely aware he's not alone in his bed; there's an arm clamped around his torso, a body spooning him, but he's too uncomfortable to stay curled up on his side any longer. Sleepily, he begins to shift, earning a groan from his bedmate, but once he's on his back, she readjusts to lay her head on his chest and reclaim her iron grip around his middle.

"Wha'timeisit?" she mumbles.

"Early."

She makes a muffled groan, and it's that sound, finally, that pierces the sleep-fog around Will's brain. Abruptly, he opens his eyes and peers down at Angie's head, and oh God, everything comes back to him.

"Angie."

"Hngh," she gibbers. Blindly, she lifts a hand and attempts to cover his mouth, mostly missing and hitting his nose instead. "Shut up. Sleep."

He takes her hand and pulls his away from his face, resettling it back against his chest. For a moment, he considers just giving into it—Angie's body, warm and soft where it presses against his; the smell of her hair; the weight of her head where it rests on her chest. But now that he remembers, he can't bring himself to stay and indulge in this.

Gently, he begins to get out of the bed, shifting Angie so her head is back on the pillow. He ducks out from under the bunk, all too aware of how stiff and sore he feels. Angie immediately spreads out and takes over the entire bed.

Will stares at her for a long moment, and then quietly sneaks out of the room.

Out in the main room of the cabin, Graham and the twins are already awake. They have the TV on at a low volume, and still look half-asleep themselves. Will stumbles over to the couch and flops down in the space between Graham and the twins. Immediately, Emma jams her icy cold toes under his leg like he's her personal heater, and Graham turns to snuggle under his arm.

Will tips his head back and shuts his eyes even though he knows he's not going to fall back to sleep. His mind is too full of Angie—of the uncomfortable awareness that someday he might break down and do something stupider than platonically spend the night with her in the world's smallest bed.

But he also knows that this moment will pass. Eventually, all the kids will be awake and demanding breakfast, Douglas will emerge and say something snarky, Miggy will be haphazardly chasing baby Jack around the room—the chaos of their little family will put everything back in equilibrium, at least for now.

Back to normal. Like nothing ever happened. And he and Angie will both go along with it, just like they always do.

**Author's Note:**

> Someday I will write a story where they actually kiss.


End file.
